


Life of The Party

by SoDoRoses (FairyChess)



Series: Blanketverse [2]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Mutual Pining, Schmoop, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, bring on the tooth decay, just cavity inducing sweetness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-26 00:57:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15652515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairyChess/pseuds/SoDoRoses
Summary: Virgil and Roman dance around the issue, until they don't.





	Life of The Party

_Knock, knock._

“Kiddo, are you ready? It’s getting about time to go,”

_No!_ _Not ready, never going to be ready, this was a terrible idea and I changed my mind!_

“Um, yeah, Pat, I’m coming,” said Virgil thinly, though he didn’t move from his spot in front of his mirror.

Roman couldn’t have done a better job – there were no fancy patterns or dazzling jewels, no embellishment save for the little silver buttons on his vest, layered over a purple shirt. It couldn’t have suited Virgil better than if he’d picked it out himself, and this was one area that Roman had insisted Virgil  _not_  give his input on.

Virgil hated it.

It was perfect, and he  _still_  hated it.

_Roman worked really hard on this and you’re being totally ungrateful, there’s nothing wrong with it you’re just being stupid about the party so you’re trying to blame it on the clothes and Patton is outside waiting and Roman is in the imagination waiting and you’re STILL JUST STANDING HERE_

“Virgil, buddy, do you need me to come in?”

“n  **O** ,” said Virgil, trying to make his voice quiet enough that Patton wouldn’t notice the obvious distortion and failing miserably.

“Virgil,” Patton said sternly.

Virgil cleared his throat and took a deep breath. He didn’t so much calm himself as grab his panic by the throat and throttle it, but, well, whatever works, he thought.

“I’m coming,” he said, crossing the room and opening the door, greeting Patton with a small smile he hoped didn’t look at strained as it felt.

Patton didn’t look convinced.

“Virgil,” he said seriously, “I know you don’t want to disappoint Roman, but-”

“It’s- It’s gonna be fine,” said Virgil, willing himself to mean it. “And he asked- he asked about  _everything_ before he did it, so anything that goes wrong is basically on me, right?”

Patton didn’t look like he was excited about  _that_  conclusion  _at all_ , and his expression suggested he was about to tell Virgil exactly what he didn’t like about it, but Virgil cut him off.

“We gotta go, Pat, I don’t wanna be late,”

Patton stared at him searchingly for a moment, then sighed.

“OK,” he said, holding out his hand for Virgil to take. He thoughtfully did not point it out when Virgil caught it in a death grip.

“Just promise me you won’t overdo it,” Patton said quietly as they walked towards Roman’s room. “None of us want you to do anything just because you think it will make us happy,”

Virgil nodded and gave Patton’s hand a squeeze of reassurance. Patton said “us” but Virgil could tell that even though it  _was_  true of all of them, Patton was mostly assuring him that Roman wouldn’t be disappointed if Virgil couldn’t hold it together for four hours. It was only slightly comforting.

Because Virgil  _knew_  that. Maybe, months ago, or even weeks, he would have felt like Roman would hold it against him if he couldn’t handle something like this. But now? Now was so much worse.

Because  _now_  he knew Princey  _wouldn’t_ , would probably even walk him out and hover until he was sure Virgil was okay. And that was so much worse, because if he wasn’t going to hold it against  _Virgil_  he was almost certainly going to blame it on  _himself._

Definitely worse.

“And kiddo?” said Patton, the smile slowly returning to his face.

“Yeah?”

“You look  _great_ ,” he said earnestly, pressing a tiny kiss to the side of Virgil’s forehead.

“ _Pat-_  c’mon, Dad-,” Virgil stuttered, flustered, but couldn’t help the smile – not strained at all this time – at Patton’s smug face.

Roman’s door, usually a relatively normal wooden one with a shiny gold knob, was instead doubled in width, with two ornate knockers. Logan was already waiting next to it, in shades of blue and steel gray, a darker mirror to Patton’s baby blue and silver ensemble. They were significantly more ornate than Virgil’s, which was somehow comforting and slightly nauseating at the same time. Fun.

“Thanks for waiting for us, Logan!” said Patton brightly. Logan nodded in return.

“I would much prefer to enter together, as to not have all of Roman’s excitement centered on me, for however brief a period,”

“Well, you look very handsome,” continued Patton with a little shimmy of his shoulders, and Virgil resisted the urge to gag like a ten-year-old. He also did not smirk when the tips of Logan’s ears turn pink.

“Are we supposed to knock?” said Patton.

“Presumably; Roman has a tendency to procrastinate as much as the rest of us, he may very well not be ready,”

Logan looked at the knocker for a moment with what could only be described as incredible distaste, before giving a barely audible sigh and knocking it twice.

The door flew open so quickly Virgil was almost certain Princey must have been standing directly on the other side of it waiting. He looked ecstatic, but also slightly manic, and he was giving off the kind of nervous energy that normally landed squarely in Virgil’s corner. It immediately set Virgil’s teeth on edge.

Roman swept them into the room

Virgil’s breath caught.

The room was just big enough that it gave the feeling of being a grand event, but still small enough that he didn’t feel like he had to strain his neck to see the other side, or the ceiling. It felt more like a rich person’s very nice living room than a ballroom, aside from the polished dance floor, and it was decorated in warm browns and soft greens.  There was the door behind him, and another on the opposite side, clearly marked, and then a smaller door just off to the side that had no sign.

“Yes, hello, come in, come in,” said Princey, and he didn’t look – indeed, didn’t even seem to notice – as he gently took Virgil’s hand from Patton and slipped it into his own. Patton smiled and shook his head teasingly as Virgil turned pink, and Logan seemed to be biting the inside of his mouth to keep from laughing.

“So the dancing’s not going to start for a while, but the food is ready, at least. It’s mostly desserts and snacks, because I figured you all would have only eaten lunch a couple of hours ago,”

“Oh look, Logan, there’s thumbprint cookies!” said Patton. Logan briefly snapped to attention before flushing and clearing his throat, visibly trying to play off his excitement.

“Yes, they have Crofter’s in them, Alexander Jam Bell,”

“I was not going to ask that,” Logan said hotly, but he didn’t protest as Patton linked arms with him and made a beeline for the refreshment table.

Roman smiled fondly after them, and them turned that soft expression on Virgil, who promptly felt like he’d snorted espresso.

“There’s, um… there’s more, if you want to see it, but if you want to go get something to drink-,”

Mentioning that ingesting anything, liquid or solid, was probably a Level 1 bad idea at the moment seemed unnecessarily hurtful. So Virgil just shook his head and then, before he lost his nerve, gave a little jolt of a squeeze to Roman’s hand where it was still holding his.

Roman’s grin was blinding, and he started tugging Virgil towards the smaller door on the side of the room, which Virgil now understood was probably the dubiously nicknamed “Panic Room.”

When Virgil and Roman had sat down to try and make this as painless an experience as possible, it had been Virgil’s first and only really insistent request. A compromise between gritting his teeth and staying if he was uncomfortable and having to leave entirely, missing out on the rest of the evening.

His suggestion had actually been to make sure there was a bathroom nearby, but Roman had wrinkled his nose and vetoed that immediately. He’d said he would handle it.

Virgil was worried it was going to be something ostentatious, but Roman had offered to do  _more_  than Virgil had wanted, and how can you politely decline someone doing extra for you? You can’t!

His unease was rising, so he started scanning the room around him. Mapping out the imaginary attendees in his head, keeping track of where everyone was, began to settle his nerves a bit.

There were less than maybe two dozen people besides the four of them, scattered around the room in clumps of three or four, producing a soft white noise of chattering voices. It was when they passed close by one of these clusters that Virgil caught sight of a shock of bright blue hair and stopped short.

Roman stopped pulling him along and turned quizzically. “What’s wrong?”

“Princey….” he said hesitantly. “is that… is that Talyn?”

It unmistakably  _was_  Talyn. The hair alone would have been a dead giveaway, but they were also talking to Joan and – was that Valerie?

“Oh! Um, yes, it’s Talyn. Well,  _no_ ,” he corrected himself, “it isn’t the  _real_  Talyn, obviously, I couldn’t bring them in here, but it is as close a facsimile as I could produce,”

Virgil turned on his heel, scanning the room and paying closer attention this time, only to realize that everybody in the room was just as familiar. Everyone there was Thomas’s friends.

“How did you…?”

Virgil looked back at Roman, who seemed to be growing increasingly sheepish.

“I thought if the daydreams looked like people you knew they would be less, well… threatening, I suppose. I didn’t tell you because I- well, I wasn’t actually sure if I could do it, having so many complicated ones at once, but there were a lot of memories of everyone to work with, so they should be close enough for a few hours. I’ll thank you not to try and have too complicated of a conversation with any of them though, they might fall apart,”

Virgil just gaped at him.

“Would it… would it have been better if you  _didn’t_  know them?” said Roman hesitantly.

It was perfect. It had been the one thing Virgil was still worried about, that even if the people weren’t real he was still going to feel like he was surrounded by strangers the second the others weren’t within arms reach. And he hadn’t asked for it – Roman had  _guessed_  it, and then solved it without even needing Virgil’s input. He hadn’t even  _mentioned_  it until Virgil pointed it out, even though the effort it must have been taking to keep such a complicated daydream steady must have been ridiculous.

_I love you so much._

The thought skittered across the forefront of Virgil’s mind, the first time he’d ever put a word to it, even in his own head. And now he had, it was all he could think about. His hands itched with the urge to do something, anything, something reckless and stupid, to recite shitty poetry or sing something sappy or drag Roman into the panic room and kiss him senseless until his lips were sore and his skin settled.

“Virgil?” said Roman hesitantly.

Virgil snapped back to reality, realizing the death grip he had on Roman’s hand. He felt his face burn like he was standing to close to a campfire. Good grief he had almost-

“Are you okay, Gloom Fairy? You look like you’re going to pass out,” Roman’s face was pinched in concern, and he reached out his free hand like he was going touch Virgil’s face.

Externally, Virgil made some kind of involuntary noise that resembled a stuttering engine, while internally he was frantically trying to put the brakes on the spiral of panic that had hijacked all of his thought processes.

_He’s done all this work for you, trying to be NICE_ ****_and you just have to KEEP MAKING IT WEIRD_ ****_with your embarrassing crush, while can’t you just CHILL OUT and not be needy and pathetic for FIVE SECONDS-_

“-oney? Virgil, do you need to sit down?”

“They’re perfect!” he blurted, and though it was mortifying to say it out loud, he would have admitted a dozen more equally embarrassing things if it meant he got to see Roman’s face light up like a struck match like that every time.

* * *

The panic room turned out to be a little bigger than Thomas’s kitchen, most of which was taken up by a comically overlarge – and equally overstuffed – purple armchair. There was also a cooler with water bottles, and enough pillows to arm a battalion of pillow fighters.

Virgil had barely looked at it.

He felt okay – not relaxed, certainly not calm, but he’d settled into a kind of dizzy halfway point between anticipation and apprehension.

Roman led him over to the snack table, laden with cookies and crackers and little fancy cheeses Virgil couldn’t have named for the life of him. As they approached, Logan caught sight of them and brushed at the dark blue cravat at his throat in what he probably thought was an incredibly subtle way, but merely had the effect of scattering the incriminating cookie crumbs onto his waistcoat.

“ _Ahem_ , yes, Roman you seem to have done a rather decent job with the decorating, I was pleasantly surprised,”

“Logan’s trying to avoid telling you he ate all the thumbprint cookies,” said Patton, grinning unapologetically from behind a peanut butter cookie of his own.

“ _Patton_ ,”

Roman sighed in exasperation, but he was fighting a smile. “I suppose I should have known better than to leave you alone with them,”

Logan’s ears were cherry-red and he was clearly using every ounce of restraint in his body to not pout petulantly.

The music came to life abruptly with a shriek of strings that made Virgil nearly jump out of his skin.

“Sorry!” shouted Roman, who had, in what Virgil could only imagine was some kind of ingrained questing instinct, thrown his hands out on either side of Virgil’s head as if to shield him from an incoming blow. This, combined with the fact that Virgil’s hair was practically  _on end_  like some kind of startled cat, made it look like Roman was magically electrocuting him.

This was apparently too much for Patton, who made a brave effort to keep a straight face for exactly 3 seconds, snorted, and dissolved into helpless giggles.

Logan too seemed to be amused, but before Virgil could start to feel too self-conscious, Logan moved forward and plucked him out of Roman’s reach.

“May I have the first dance with you, Virgil?”

Internally Virgil breathed a sigh of relief. This, at least, was going to be slightly familiar.

“Sure, brainiac,”

He tossed a hesitant smile over his shoulder at Patton and Roman, who were already moving to join them.

“Is this Panic! At The Disco?” said Virgil as Logan almost absentmindedly adjusted Virgil’s hand placement to suit his standards.

“I believe it is Vitamin String Quartet,”

“ _Not_  what I meant, obviously. Now I’m starting to think you’re just fucking with me,”

“I most certainly am not,” said Logan. He finally seemed satisfied with their form, and then they were off.

A week ago, Virgil had had an epiphany that had thrown him into an absolute panic. All the planning, all the evenings spent with his and Princey’s heads bent over that binder, making sure nothing could go wrong, and Virgil had overlooked this one, most vital detail.

He didn’t know how to dance.

So, of course, the solution was to go to Logan and beg him for help.

Logan had been accommodating (or as much as Logan was ever accommodating, which is to say he only rambled about the history of ballroom dancing for a ridiculous amount of time, as opposed to an excruciating one) and done his best to help him.

Not that Virgil was very good. Currently, he had his eyes focused firmly on his shoes, carefully counting the beats and mapping the coming steps in his head.

“Approximately how long do you think it will take for you to be comfortable enough that you can join your preferred dance partner?” said Logan.

Virgil tried to fight down the heat rising in his face. “I don’t- what do you mean, this is fine,”

“Ah; so we are all still pretending we do not know about you and Roman being besotted with each other, I see,”

Virgil choked on air, sputtering in mortification.

“It’s quite alright, I simply believed we had already dispensed with the pretense. It was my mistake,” Logan’s voice was conversationally light, as if he wasn’t making Virgil turn puce with embarrassment.

“I am not  _besotted,”_ Virgil said indignantly.

“The definition of besotted being ‘strongly infatuated,’ I would say you certainly are,”

“I’m not  _infatuated,_  either,” Virgil’s voice was rapidly approaching shrill.

“We can continue to go through synonyms for the remainder of the evening, if that is how you wish to spend it,”

Virgil’s ears were burning and there was a very faint sting starting up in his eyes. He slumped in defeat.

“…Does everyone know?” he said faintly.

“Everyone with observational skill of any kind. To answer your actual question, I doubt Roman is aware,”

Virgil risked a glance over Logan’s shoulder to where Roman and Patton were twirling effortlessly around the dance floor, weaving between the likenesses of their friends like they were floating.

“…It isn’t like it matters anyway,” muttered Virgil. “It’s not like Roman would ever…”

He trailed off, trying to calm the twisting in his stomach.

“Sometimes I feel like the three of you only hear every fourth word I say,”

Virgil scowled. “What do you mean?”

Logan sighed, focusing his gaze just of the side of Virgil’s head, like he didn’t want to look him in the eye. He furrowed his brow in concentration. He looked slightly pained, and almost – nervous?

“I am not… very proficient in the topic of emotions,” he said speaking slower than normal, as if he was choosing his words very carefully. “It is not my area of expertise, and I know I am sometimes oblivious to the… feelings the rest of you are having,”

Virgil remained quiet. Logan hardly ever talked like this.

“But I am also not an idiot,” he said, his voice turning more towards his normal tone, “And I am not blinded by insecurity in regards to this situation, as you are,”

Virgil, offended, opened his mouth to defend himself but Logan patted his ribs and shook his head dismissively.

“It is not a judgment, it’s an observation,” Logan said. “But you  _are_ ignoring a very significant amount of data, and I feel it is my duty to bring it to your attention,”

“Bring  _what_  to my attention?”

“Roman has done all of this for you,”

Virgil’s hand spasmed in Logan’s with the need to cover his face, but Logan seemed to sense this and refused to let go.

“He has put hours of time and effort into this event, given you control in multiple areas when he is normally loath to allow any input from the rest of us, and he has done all of it for the sole purpose of creating an environment in which you can enjoy yourself,”

“He’d do that for any of us,” Virgil said helplessly.

“Maybe,” said Logan, shrugging. “But he didn’t. He did it for you,”

Virgil worried his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Are you… are you  _sure?_ ”

Logan scoffed. “When have I ever expressed a hypothesis I was not reasonably certain about?”

Virgil looked over Logan’s shoulder again, and flushed when he realized Roman was already looking back at him. Roman shot him a dazzling grin over the top of Patton’s head, and Virgil felt distinctly faint.

“I-,”

Logan didn’t press him, merely continued to whisk them around the floor at a sedate pace.

“I don’t know what to do,” he said finally.

“Well, I certainly don’t either,” said Logan. “That you will have to figure out on your own,”

And – in a move Virgil was quite certain was by design, because Logan was an insufferable prick like that sometimes – he turned them, and Virgil realized he had led them right up next to Patton and Roman.

He tapped Roman on the shoulder. “May I cut in?”

Roman smiled and presented Patton’s hand with a flourish. Patton let out a giggle that was borderline hysterical and practically tackled Logan, spinning him away in a dance that very clearly had no steps.

Virgil watched them go, shaking his head in amusement. He felt a gentle touch on his forearm and turned to see Roman, once again focusing that mega-watt smile directly on him.

“Dance with me?” Roman asked, a question, because Roman was always giving him the space to run away these days.

Right then, Virgil didn’t think he’d ever wanted to run less in his life.

“Yeah,” he breathed, placing his hand in Roman’s and holding on as tight as he dared.

* * *

Virgil had no idea how long he’d been here. It could have been thirty minutes or it could have been hours. The room was almost spinning, and he never thought he’d be able to describe a room spinning in a good way but here they were.

He felt  _good._ It was almost bizarre, how little he was freaking out. But every time he looked out into the room he only saw people he loved, people who cared about him, in a place nothing bad could happen because Roman had  _made_  it that way. He was probably safer in this room than he could be anywhere on the planet, and the thought made it impossible to hold on to any fear.

He hadn’t even had to use the panic room – every time he felt himself getting overwhelmed, someone, whether it was one of the other sides or even a daydream, seemed to sense it. They would pull him into a dance far away from the others and the loudest areas of music, talking calmly about inconsequential things and anchoring him to reality until the nerves quieted and he settled back into the easy rhythm that permeated the whole room.

He’d lost track of how many times he’d danced – dozens, easily. He’d danced with Logan, comforting and calm in the midst of the revelry. With the daydreams, all of them at least a few times, and the Dream-Talyn in particular kept seeking him out and pulling him into conversations. And Patton, though with Patton it had barely been dancing, just clasping each other’s hands and twirling, twirling, twirling until Virgil was dizzy and light-headed and laughing harder than he’d ever laughed in his life.

And Roman. No matter how many times they separated, eventually Roman always sought him out, again and again.

That meant something, right?

At the moment, Virgil was leaning heavily on the snack table, which had long since been raided of most of its contents. As much fun as he was having, it was still tiring, and while part of him wanted to stay and chase this for as long as he could, he was beginning to feel like he needed the worlds longest nap.

“Virgil!”

Virgil jumped, and swiped at Roman’s arm, even though he couldn’t wipe the smile from his face.

“What?”

“I just saw you over here and I came to check on you,”

Virgil’s grin spread wider, and Roman mirrored it, his hands raising to cup Virgil’s arms.

“I’m fine,” Virgil said honestly, “Just tired,”

“Good,” Roman breathed, and some tension that Virgil hadn’t even noticed bled out of his shoulders. The same itch from earlier was starting up in Virgil’s fingertips. He looked up at Roman’s face – he was wearing those  _ridiculous_  boots with the heels that made him taller than Virgil and Virgil was forever salty about it – and felt a tremor of affection spasm through his chest.

“This-,” he started, squeezing Roman’s forearm. “This is all great, Roman,”

Roman smiled, “You did a lot of the work too, Virgil, don’t sell yourself short,”

Virgil was already shaking his head. “But you’re the one who actually _made_  it. So thank you,”

“It wouldn’t have worked at all if you hadn’t-,” Roman started to protest.

“Roman!” Virgil cut him off, a laugh creeping into his voice, “I’m trying to compliment you here, do you think you could cooperate?”

Roman didn’t say anything, and the smile slipped a bit. He just stared, and Virgil felt heat creeping up his neck.

“I-,” Roman’s voice cracked, and he broke eye contact to look out over the rest of the room. He cleared his throat.

“I’m really glad you’re having fun,” he said, “I think everybody is, you just- you’re lighting up the room Virgil,”

_That’s not a friend thing to say, right?_

The itch had spread to Virgil’s whole body now, and he could feel his heartbeat jumping in his throat. Roman still wasn’t looking at him and Virgil was unabashedly taking the opportunity to really study his face; the soft, fond expression, the faint blush on his cheeks, the smile.

_Logan said he was sure. Logan’s right about pretty much everything, isn’t he? The party, the daydreams, all the work, it all has to mean something, so DO something, do anything, just be brave for once in your life-_

Before he could lose his nerve or think any harder about what he was doing, Virgil lunged forward.

Roman jerked his head backwards.

Virgil’s heart fell all the way to his feet.

He dropped Roman’s arms like they’d burned him, and the yawning chasm of dread that was opening inside him was already threatening to swallow him whole. The giddy feeling he’d been chasing all evening evaporated entirely, leaving only the gaping horror that he’d, once again, made an absolute ass of himself.

“I-,” he choked, “I gotta- Bed, I’m tired, I’m gonna go to sleep,”

Roman’s eyes were wide as saucers, and his face showed growing panic.

“Wait, Virgil-,”

“It was great, I had a great time, I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” Virgil’s voice was cracking, and he was speaking so fast he wouldn’t be surprised If Roman couldn’t understand him. He thought he might actually die of mortification when he realized tears were rapidly threatening in his eyes. He moved to push past him.

“Virgil,  _wait,_ ” Roman pleaded, and suddenly he was sliding his arm around Virgil’s waist and placing his other hand on his face.

“We’re you trying to kiss me?”

Virgil felt something ugly twist in his stomach, sitting heavy next to the rush of their faces being so close together. Virgil focused his gaze firmly on Romans throat and found he couldn’t even speak.

“You just-, I thought we were going to knock heads and you startled me, I didn’t-, Virgil,  _please_ , tell me, were you trying to kiss me?”

Virgil’s head was a jumbled of conflicting thoughts, Panic and dread and  _hope_  and apprehension and he didn’t know what would happen if he told the truth but the only other option was to lie, and Virgil really, really didn’t want to lie to Roman.

“Yeah,” he breathed, voice shaking, and the word had barely left his lips before Roman surged forward and kissed it right out of his mouth.

Virgil felt the entire world go still as stone.

His hearing seemed muffled, and for a moment he felt frozen solid, and then his whole body relaxed and the only thought in his head was  _oh_.

The swirling thoughts in his head gentled to soft white noise; there was a pleasant buzzing in his finger tips and his heartbeat was a hummingbird-thrum in his chest. It was like his whole body was humming lightly. Singing, even, like a bowed violin or something equally feverish and nonsensical.

Virgil didn’t remember moving but he could feel Roman’s hand under his at the side of his face, and his other hand was clutching at Roman’s sash. Roman had pulled him so close that he was balanced on the tips of his toes and then Roman pressed even closer and Virgil’s head swam.

“Awwwwwwwwww!”

They separated instantly with an absurd popping noise.

Patton was clutching his hands together and had an utterly delighted expression on his face. Logan was sighing into his hand. Then Virgil’s brain caught up with his eyes and he realized they were both wearing their everyday clothes, and Roman’s room had dissolved back into it’s normal state.

He looked down at his own clothes and saw his own hoodie and purple shirt. He looked up at Roman questioningly.

Roman was bright red and cleared his throat awkwardly.

“I may have- lost my concentration. A little,”

“We are leaving,” said Logan, pushing at Patton’s shoulder in the direction of the door. He was rolling his eyes but he was also clearly pleased. “This evening was enjoyable and we appreciate your effort,”

“Make good choices!” Patton said cheerfully, catching Logan’s hand and swinging it between them. He waved enthusiastically even as they left the room and shut the door behind them, the grin never leaving his face.

Virgil shuffled his feet in embarrassment. His face was on fire and he could have gone his whole life without the experience of knowing Patton had seen that.

He felt a gentle touch on his hand, and he couldn’t help the smile that crept onto his face as he turned to look at Roman.

Roman finished tangling their fingers together and stunned Virgil with another one of those disorienting smiles.

“Kiss me again,” Virgil said before he could stop himself.

Virgil was going to have to keep asking that, if Roman lit up like that every time.

**Author's Note:**

> come yell about sanders sides with me at tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors.tumblr.com!


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